


Die to Save You

by Thighkyuu



Category: X-Men
Genre: also blood is mentioned I think?, but its not too graphic, there's violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-06
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-09-13 04:20:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16885518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thighkyuu/pseuds/Thighkyuu
Summary: "Peter x reader where the reader saves his life (nearly dying in the process)" - requested by sygin on tumblr





	Die to Save You

  Of all of the stupid, idiotic, purely ridiculous ideas for Peter to have, and he choses the most  _risky_ , treacherous, fucking  _perilous_  idea. And it was going to get you both killed. You glanced over your shoulder, trying to stay focused. You’d lost Peter in the chaos, and you needed to find him again before the two of you could escape.

  But that was going to take a while, you knew, because you had made it to the outskirts of the facility, and Peter was still in the thick of things. He was an idiot, no doubt about it. He’d gotten you both into this mess, and now you weren’t sure you would be able to get you both out of it unscathed. You went over everything you’d been told about this place, trying to sort out the best way to find Peter and get out without much difficulty.

  There wasn’t one.  _Of course_  there wasn’t an easy way out. Nothing’s ever easy. Especially not with Peter.

  You narrowed your options down to two: risk being hurt to get Peter back… or leave him here. In your mind, there was only one option.

“Dammit, Peter…” You mutter to yourself, moving swiftly out of your hiding spot. You would have to move fast. Very, very fast. Almost faster than Peter. You scaled the closest building, deciding to keep to the roofs of the buildings rather than traverse the grounds. You were less likely to be caught on the roof, and your high position would make attacks easier. The base, you thought, was not fortified enough for what they were pulling off. Which meant there had to be  _something_  they were keeping close. And you didn’t like it.

  You took a deep breath, calming your mind and compartmentalizing your thoughts. You knew that you had to move quickly and cautiously, but this was easier said than done. You could not move quickly without sacrificing caution nor move cautiously without sacrificing speed. You would have to balance the two, moving just cautious enough to keep a steady pace. This wasn’t a choice so much as a necessity. Peter’s life depended upon you.

  You found it odd how, despite the dire situation, you were oddly calm. Your heart rate was up, but your mind was perfectly focused. You knew what you had to do, and you knew what it might cost. You’d made up your mind the moment you’d realized what happened. It was worth your life for Peter’s, and you would make the same decision a hundred times over, even if you didn’t love him. Which you did.

  You shook your head, focusing your thoughts on the situation and moving across the roof as quickly as caution allowed. You had to find him, and fast, and you had a sneaking suspicion of where he was. They would be taking him to the main compound, if he was captured - for the only reason he would not be with you already was that he had been captured - and so that was where you had to go. You would go and rescue him before they had a chance to interrogate and kill him.

~

  You observed quietly, absorbing all the details you possibly could before making your move. There were ten guards, at least four of them armed more heavily than the rest. Ten guards. One mutant. One mutant with a power entirely useless for the situation and combat skills only half developed. Great.

  Peter himself was in the center, a power-suppressing collar clasped around his neck and shackles on his wrists and ankles. How they got the drop on him, you did not know; though you suspected sheer number overwhelmed him.

  This was not going to go well, you knew, but if you did not act soon Peter would be dead, and you would rather die than let that happen.

  So you would risk the odds, even if it killed you.

  You shifted your eyes to the rear-most guard, studying him intensely. The others diverted to him for orders, perked up when he spoke, and even their formation suggested he was the most important. Ambush formation - the lead car always gets hit first in an ambush. It was almost too easy. And that worried you. Perhaps the guards had merely assumed you would attack the lead first. Perhaps they assumed you captured, dead, or gone by now. Perhaps they were simply overconfident.

  Any way you looked at it, the whole situation stank of deceit, but you were running out of time. There was no time to worry about a trap, you had to act now or let Peter perish. Even had  there been a choice, it wouldn’t have been one for you.

  You were upon the guards in an instant, and chaos ensued just as your foot connected with the first guard’s face.

~

  You whirl around, trying to process the situation. You were right about the trap; on top of the ten guards surrounding Peter, four more had joined the melee armed with power suppressors and more guns than you could count. Peter wasn’t faring well, for after having attempted to help he had to back away and lean on a wall, trying to stay out of the way of any stray bullets or thrown knives.

  You slam your foot into one guard’s crotch, elbowing another effortlessly and then proceeding to swing around and disarm another, wielding the stolen gun as a club. There were cuts and bruises and graze wounds all over your body, but you felt nothing. Not that it would have stopped you much if you had.

  You turned, eyes falling on the final guard. The only one not incapacitated and disarmed. And he was aiming right for Peter.

  You leapt in front of Peter, feeling the numb sensation of a bullet entering your stomach, tearing at your insides.  _His aim must be awful._  You felt no pain, for adrenaline coursing through your veins combined with your powers prevented it. Sometimes your mutant ability to feel no pain came in handy. Sometimes.

  You lunged at the final man, rotating your body in a spin and smashing your elbow into his temple. He dropped like a sack of potatoes, his gun falling to the floor next to his limp body.

“Y/N,” Peter’s voice is quiet but steady as you turn to face him, his eyes trained on your face, “Y/N.” He was bleeding from a gash on his temple and a jagged cut on his thigh he obtained during the melee. You were losing blood quickly, and you could feel yourself becoming fatigued. You moved over to Peter, yanking the collar from his neck and removing the shackles with a key you picked off of a guard.

“We need to go now,” you say, tearing pieces from both of your shirts to wrap around his leg and head, “or we won’t make it out.” He looked lightheaded and about to pass out, and you you slung his arm over your shoulder, trying to support his weight.

“Y/N, you’re bleeding.”

“I know.”

“ _Y/N!_ ” He grabs your wrists, eyes focused lightly on your face, “You got  _shot_.”

“ _I know_.” Your vision was beginning to fade at the edges, and your thoughts were fuzzy. You didn’t have long, and you knew it even without the pain to tell you. “Stop arguing with me and  _let’s go_.” You leaned on him as much as he leaned on you, and you began to lead him out of the base before the both of you passed out. You were finished if you ran into any more guards, and you couldn’t let that happen. You remembered from classes that it takes roughly ten minutes to pass out from blood loss alone with heavy bleeding. You glance at Peter, looking over his injuries. You estimated he had about fifteen more minutes, seeing as his injuries were less serious than yours.

  Your best chance was to make it out of the base and signal the Professor - the walls prevented any telepathic communication going in or out - for evac. Until you could get outside of the base, however, you would have to make do with keeping the both of you alive. Each breath was agonizingly difficult, but you kept pressing onward.

  There was no time to think anymore; no time to strategize and plan. There was only pure, animal instinct. And that instinct said to flee. You turned another corner, spying the door at the end of the hall. Thirty more feet. Just thirty more feet. Your vision was fading fast, faster than you’d anticipated, but blood was leaking from your stomach and you knew that if you didn’t get medical attention soon that you would die.

  You burst through the door, not caring if guards saw any longer. You could communicate with Professor X, and that was what mattered. You dragged yourself into a small space between buildings, making sure Peter was hidden from view. Then you began your message. You could feel his presence in your mind, and you use the last ounce of mental energy you have to get across that you two need out  _now._

  You start to hear his response, but the world is fading around you; plunging you into darkness.

~

  Your senses were jumbled, tangled within one another to the point where you were unable to distinguish properly between real and fantasy. You didn’t know if reality was living through your wound or dying from it, if reality was Peter’s worry or his anger, if it was his hands through your hair and gripping your wrist or if it was indifference. You didn’t know if you were dead or alive or some place in between, but you knew one thing for certain.

  Peter lived. That was enough for you.

~

**Peter**

“Will Y/N be alright?” He asked, probably for the eighth time that day, his eyes searching the Professor’s face for an answer.  _I’ll never forgive myself if Y/N doesn’t live. There will be nothing left for me here but emptiness._  Xavier sighed, looking at him with unreadable eyes.

“Only time will tell. Y/N has been stabilized thus far, but the battle is an uphill one, and I… am unsure of what the outcome will be.” He let out a breath, eyes darting away from the Professor and looking over at your hospital bed. The Professor looked over at him, reading the stubbornness on his face as if he was reading the pages of a book.

“Y/N… Y/N will  _live_ ,” he stated firmly. It wasn’t stated as a question, or a weak attempt at denial, but as a firm, cold, hard  _fact_. The Professor followed his gaze, his eyes landing on your steady breathing.

“Yes,” he said slowly, his lips curving upward in a small smile, “I believe so.” 


End file.
